


Invasion of the Latte Snatchers

by romanticalgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	Invasion of the Latte Snatchers

There was a strange sense of foreboding in the air as she got off the bus in Pioneer Square. She looked up at the sky, expecting another typical shower. Instead, all she saw was the red light atop the Space Needle, blinking its eternal vigilance.

Still, the feeling didn’t quite leave her as she walked amongst the galleries and antique shops. With a shrug, she got back to her morning commute.

Heading toward the small center of shops, she ducked inside, shaking off the thin layer of mist one perpetually wore in Seattle. She took off her beige trench coat, accidentally bumping an older gentleman. “Sorry,” she began.

“Damn tourists.” 

She shook her head at his comment, his raspy voice floating back to her as he pushed out into the gray day. “Tourist, huh? Do you see me carrying an umbrella?” Even though she didn’t carry one, umbrellas –or bumbershoot as they were often known locally – were her trade stock and she made a killing in the tourist season. No real Seattleite worth their salt would carry one.

The shop was dark as she surveyed the set up. Tourist season hadn’t officially started, so all she had to keep her company was the disdainful looks from the locals. She straightened up by the dim light, pausing to admire the business cards she’d had made. They were white with a rainbow of colored umbrellas and her logo BUMBERSHOOTS in black. Nothing like subtlety.

She finished admiring the handiwork then looked around the shop. NO point in opening yet. She’d just grab a soda and sit in the café area until some suckers – tourists – filtered in. The mist outside was slowly drying off, but there was always a possibility of rain.

The café was strangely silent when she walked in despite the fact it was full. She stopped in the entryway, the earlier sense of foreboding with her again. “You’re being ridiculous,” she chided herself under her breath, then waved to two of her friends sitting off to the side at a table. 

All the food stands were quiet except for an espresso cart in the middle of the room. She waited in line patiently until the clerk was ready for her order. “I’ll have…” she stopped suddenly as she looked up to meet his eyes.

They were dark, almost black in the center and a strange milky beige where the whites should have been. He stared at her glassily. “You’ll have?” His voice was deep and raspy, harsh as the older man’s had been that morning.

“A…a soda. A cola.”

“A cola,” he spat out at her. “What does this look like, lady?”

“I’m sorry.” She turned and stumbled out of line, away from him, toward her friends.

He followed her, waving his arms to encourage the others in the room to join him. “Get her! Get the cola drinker!”

She risked a quick glance back and saw a crowd of people, their eyes glazed, beige as the coffee cups in their hands, following her. She reached her friends’ table, only to see them staring at her blankly.

“Come to join us, cola drinker?” The ominous phrase ended in a shout as a sudden hail of espresso beans came down on her. She ran out the door still being pelted with beans and taunts. Ironically, as the beans continuously hit their target, she wished desperately for an umbrella.

“Cola Drinker!’”

“Water Sipper!”

“Milk Slurper!”

She ran. Ran from them, only occasionally daring to look back. More had joined the band rushing toward her.

“Juice Guzzler!”

“Tea Taster!”

“Beer chugger!”

Still she ran. The streets of Seattle became a blur. The ground crunched under her feet as she stepped on espresso beans, plain and chocolate covered. The pursuing mob stayed close behind, fueled by double tall mochas and iced cappuccinos.

She held tightly to the adrenaline rush that sped her along. She wanted a drink now, something thick with caffeine to quench her pant dry throat. She turned a sharp corner and heard the majority of the huge crowd go rushing past. She paused, taking deep breaths, poised to run again at the first whiff of ground roast.

She heard the high, shrill whistle of a traffic cop and snuck slowly to the edge of the brief alleyway. A policeman stood there, admonishing the crowd for blocking traffic. She sighed, safe at last until someone handed the officer a latte and a cheer went up. 

Mumbling an expletive under her breath, her eyes widening in horror as the sound carried and, as one, hundreds of glazed eyes turned to her. She whirled around and started running again, taunts and espresso beans ringing in her ears.

“Wine swallower!”

“Lemonade gulper!”

“Ginger ale swigger!”

They were getting closer, edging up on her. At least a thousand people now ran behind her and the whole of Seattle smelled of ground espresso beans. A low rumble of thunder matched the aching beat of her heart.

As the first raindrops hit her, she could only think that the runoff of the streets was going to turn the Puget Sound into a giant coffee pot – the next best thing to the Boston Tea Party.

Even the sudden torrent of rain didn’t slow her pursuers. She ran on doggedly until she could run no more. She stopped, pressed up against a wall by the mass of people. The local coffee emblem painted on the brick filled her line of sight.

Ignoring the grabs and taunts of the crowd, she forced her way to the building’s edge. Squeezing through the door, she collapsed at the feet of the store’s patrons. She looked up at them, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in her legs. Pairs of glazed eyes gazed won at her.

“A laaattteeee,” they moaned. “A moooocha.”

As they closed in around her, in the last breath that was her own, she screamed.


End file.
